


The Warmth of Home

by cienna



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 19:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cienna/pseuds/cienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick is captured while out on a routine patrol on one of Gotham's coldest nights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warmth of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for klose as part of the 2012 batfam xmas exchange on livejournal.

Gotham looks beautiful in the snow, all glittering ice and blanketed rooftops, skyscrapers standing out starkly against the cold winter sky. But the beauty doesn’t last long. All too quickly the snow turns to brown muck and the ice becomes treacherous under their feet. Patrols become even more hazardous than usual in sub-zero temperatures, and Dick is thankful that his suit functions like a wetsuit, keeping heat in.

The cold weather has been especially hard on Gotham’s homeless. Shelters are filled to overflowing, and many people have been forced out on the streets. Those who have no place to go are desperate, willing to do anything to survive, including turning to crime. And Gotham’s regular criminals are having no problem finding things for them to do. In short, the last few days have not been the easiest for Batman or Nightwing.

Now it’s Christmas Eve and Dick is hoping that tonight’s patrol is at least a little more routine. He would really like to get back in time to have the usual awkward family Christmas thing in the morning. He’s also looking forward to having Tim home (although dreading the thought of Tim and Damian in the same room). Having the entire family together has become even less common in recent years with everyone involved in their own complicated situations.

Alfred had insisted that Damian stay at the Manor tonight to help him put the finishing touches on the Christmas decorations, but Dick thinks that it’s more likely Alfred just wants to give him and Bruce some time alone together. Bruce has been even more standoffish than usual lately and to be honest Dick has no idea what is causing it. It could be any number of things, quite a few of which Dick probably has no knowledge of. And it’s not as if Bruce would tell him. The man would answer all questions with one word if he could get away with it. Dick finds it alternately frustrating and endearing.

At the moment they’re chasing after some petty criminal, who is annoyingly agile, leaping between rooftops and climbing up icy fire escapes without missing a beat.

“Watch it, Nightwing,” Bruce barks at him when he slips on some black ice and almost misses a landing.

Dick sighs. Normally he would not mind spending Christmas Eve on patrol, but tonight he is just not in the mood. He would rather be home with Damian and Alfred, helping Alfred with the tree and listening to Damian complain while sitting by the warm fire. Anything other than slipping on icy rooftops and freezing his ass off with Bruce being his usual non-communicative self.

They’ve been following him for quite a while when they see the criminal slip inside a window of an office building. Dick follows without a thought. It seems like nothing more than a typical mission and he has no reason to suspect otherwise. He doesn’t hear Batman’s warning shout until it is too late. The instant he makes his landing he realizes with horror that he is completely surrounded by some type of gas. It must be fast acting because he is out within seconds, his last thought is that even if he makes it out of this alive – Bruce is going to kill him.

***

When Dick comes to he is surrounded by darkness, the kind of darkness where you can’t see your hand in front of your face. He realizes immediately that they must have removed his suit because he is completely freezing and apparently wearing nothing. Dick crawls around to see if he can find any of his belongings or anything else that would be helpful, but all he can feel is an icy concrete floor and concrete walls. He estimates that the room is about 12 ft. x 12 ft. with no windows and only a heavily bolted concrete door that not even light is visible under.

Dick spends some time at the door trying various methods that he has used to escape in the past, but without his tools he can’t seem to get the leverage he needs. He guesses that the door is bolted in at least three places. But he knows that whoever captured him will have to open the door to get in, and he isn’t tied up. Big mistake. Or maybe they’re just planning on gassing him again before they open the door. He groans. That’s probably the more likely scenario.

In any case, there’s no doubt what he’s being used for. Bait for Batman. And it pisses him off. Which is why he has to find a way out before Batman arrives.

Unfortunately, the odds are not in his favor. The fact that he’s been stripped of his suit combined with the below freezing temperatures in the room are most definitely a problem. He must have been unconscious for at least an hour in the freezing cold as his body is already shivering violently. And there is absolutely nothing in the room that can be used as a weapon. His only chance is to wait by the door and then try to jump whoever comes in. Not the best odds. But he refuses to disappoint Bruce again.

***

Several more hours pass and Dick can feel his body starting to shut down. The shivering is becoming more extreme and he’s having a hard time staying in his position by the door. His body just doesn’t seem to want to be upright. The only thing stopping him from lying down is the fact that the icy concrete on the floor seems to leech the heat from his body even faster.

To distract himself he tries to imagine what’s going on at the Manor. Damian asleep in his warm bed. The crackling fire. Alfred making hot chocolate with marshmallows and Christmas cookies. He wonders if Batman has told them that he’s gone yet. If he’s still searching for him. The thought that Batman might be put into danger because of his own mistake is upsetting, and Dick tries to think about something else.

He and Bruce haven’t been on the best of terms lately. Ever since Bruce came back from being “dead” things have been a little awkward between them. Dick knows that part of it is his own fault. Believing Bruce to be dead was one of the most horrible times of his life. Now that Bruce’s back again he’s had to accept that his feelings toward him are more complicated than he realized. Their relationship has always been hard to define and Dick doesn’t really want to. All he knows is that Bruce is the most important person in his life and when he was gone it was as if his world had come to a standstill. If he hadn’t had Damian to look after he might not have made it through at all.

It’s strange to think that he kind of owes the life he had while Bruce was gone to Damian. The boy can be infuriating, but there’s stubbornness in him that reminds him so much of Bruce. He didn’t expect to grow so fond of him in such a short time, but it seems like they were both there when the other needed them. Now that Bruce has gone back to being Batman, Dick still feels that connection to Damian. He just wishes that Damian and Bruce could have that same closeness.

Dick realizes suddenly that he is no longer crouched by the door, ready to take down anybody who comes in, but is now lying on the freezing cold concrete floor. His body is starting to betray him. He had been doing a good job ignoring the shivering for the last hour or so, but now it seems to be getting stronger. And even worse – his hands and feet have started to go numb. He is also beginning to feel disoriented. The pitch black room isn’t helping. Dick backs up until he’s propped up against a wall. That helps a bit, but try as he might he can no longer seem to stay upright. He’s also losing track of how much time has gone by since he woke up after the gas. Has it been two hours? Three? It seems like it’s been days, but he knows that can’t be right. Batman would never take that long to find him. Unless they’ve caught Batman too and are keeping him somewhere else. What if Bruce is going through the same thing he’s going through in a different room? What if no one’s noticed they haven’t come back from patrol yet?

Fighting back the panic that threatens to take hold of him, Dick forces himself to take deep breaths. He has to stay calm and conserve his energy. When Batman does come for him he’s probably going to need Dick to at least be able to walk so they can get out. Dick concentrates on that single thought. Batman breaking in through that door. Helping Dick up. Putting his arm around Dick’s shoulders and supporting him so that they can get out of there. Batman’s warmth against Dick’s side. His mouth against Dick’s, pushing him up against the wall while they’re on patrol. His body pressed up against Dick’s. So warm...

Dick shakes those fantasies away as he feels himself dozing off. He has to stay alert. On the plus side, at least he feels warmer now.

Suddenly there is a series of clanks as the bolts on the door are pulled and the door is forced open. Dick only has a few seconds, but somehow he manages to pull himself back into his position by the door. It’s a pointless attempt. After so many hours in a pitch black room the faint light from outside blinds him immediately. The cold has also weakened him more than he realized and the men are able to take him down without much of a fight, slamming him to the ground and kicking him multiple times in the ribs for good measure. He manages to keep from calling out by thinking of Batman’s reaction to his weakness. One of the men holds a knife to his throat, the slick blade sinking into his skin and drawing blood.

“Where’s Batman?” the man demands, his voice sounding desperate. He drives his knee into Dick’s side.

“I don’t know,” Dick says, fighting to concentrate on something other than the pain of his now broken ribs. That answer results in another kick from one of the men and a hot flash of searing pain. Dick tries to focus his mind on something else. This certainly isn’t the first time he’s been in a situation like this and it won’t be the last. He’s learned a lot of meditation techniques over the years to get him through interrogations. Unfortunately, the bone chilling cold seems to be affecting his ability to meditate as well.

“Don’t give me that,” the man holding the knife shouts. “We saw you with Batman. Why hasn’t he come for you?”

_Probably because he knows it’s a trap,_ Dick thinks, but he says, “Batman could care less about me. We’re just working together out of convenience.” He tries to make his voice sound convincing, but it’s hard with the pain and the relentless cold. “If you want to get to him, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” the man holding the knife sneers. “I’ve heard that you’re one of the Bat’s special weaknesses.”

Dick doesn’t respond and one of the men kicks him again in his injured side. This time he coughs up blood. Great. Alfred is not going to be happy if his lung has been pierced by the broken ribs. The man with the knife digs it into his neck a bit deeper and he feels a stream of blood running down his neck. This evening really is getting better and better.

“That’s enough,” the standing man barks. “Another few hours in here and he’ll be ready to talk.”

The man with the knife laughs. “Any longer than that and he won’t be able to talk.”

It’s all a blur of pain to Dick as the men leave through the door and bolt it again. He curls into a fetal position and tries not to breathe too deeply. The men weren’t joking. Without clothing in this temperature and with the broken ribs it’s unlikely that he’ll survive more than a few more hours. All he can do is conserve his energy and hope that Batman turns up soon.

Now that the men have gone, the rush of adrenaline he felt goes too and the shivering begins again in full force. Even his teeth are chattering. He can’t control it but he wishes he could because every shake sends another jolt of pain through his injured side. He tries to keep his eyes open, to stay alert, but even doing that seems to require more energy than he has available at the moment. His eyes shut and he shakes his head angrily. He can’t sleep. He can’t. He has to be alert for when Batman comes. Batman would be disappointed in him-

***

Dick jerks awake suddenly, not sure how much time has passed. He no longer feels cold, just a kind of numbness that spreads across his body, except for his ribs which are still burning. He can’t feel his hands or feet. And then he realizes why he woke up. The bolts on the door are being opened. This is the end then. Dick closes his eyes and waits for it to come.

But instead of another blow to his ribs he feels a gentle gloved touch on his shoulder and something soft and unexpectedly warm being wrapped around his body. He knows instantly who it is.

“Batman. How did you find me?” he asks, and is immediately taken aback at how slurred his speech is.

“Don’t talk.” The voice is gruff, but gentler than usual. “We have to get you out of here. There were too many for me to take out all of them, but I got the ones in the immediate vicinity.”

“I don’t think I can walk.” Dick tries to move his arms and legs and finds that they aren’t responding the way they should be.

“No, it’s best you don’t.” Batman’s tone is decisive. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt.”

Dick attempts to sit up with Batman’s help. “I’ll be okay. Just get me out of here.”

He quickly sees what Batman means when Batman picks him up and puts him over his shoulder. Dick’s injured ribs scream in protest and he can’t help but let out a moan, immediately clamping his jaw shut.

Bruce hands him a piece of soft cloth. “Bite down on this. You’re going to need to be quiet while we get you out of the building.”

Dick obediently bites down on the cloth and tries to stay quiet. The pain is even worse when Batman stands up and begins moving. He can’t see much, but they seem to be in the basement of some sort of factory. He can also just make out several men dressed as guards who are knocked unconscious and knows it won’t be long until the rest of them realize he’s gone. Batman moves silently through the building, avoiding the remaining guards.

They are almost out, when a group of men with machine guns appears. This time Dick is able to recognize the clothes they are wearing as those of the Green Triad, a prominent local gang. Batman immediately pulls a smoke bomb from his belt and puts Dick down at the same instant. Dick can’t do more than lean against the wall and try to remain conscious as Batman fights each member of the gang into submission. He can’t quite manage it and his eyes start to slide shut.

“Nightwing!” Batman is in his face and yelling at him. “I need you to stay with me.” His voice becomes softer as Dick opens his eyes. “We’re almost out of here. Just hang on.”

Dick can only manage to nod his agreement, but Batman looks satisfied. Before picking him up again he touches Dick’s cheek gently and Dick can’t help but lean into it, craving the warmth and the safety that Batman’s touch offers.

“Damian and Alfred are waiting for you,” Batman says, and Dick clings to that thought as Batman picks him up. He knows that Batman is picking him up as gently as possible, but the pain is still overwhelming. Dick concentrates on keeping his eyes open. He just has to follow Batman’s orders. That should be easy. He’s done that his entire life.

Ten minutes later they are out. Things are hazy after that. Dick vaguely remembers Robin appearing with the Batmobile and some medical equipment. Robin’s face is creased with worry and his voice is agitated as he yells at Batman. Dick can only faintly make out what they’re saying through a haze of pain and cold.

“This is your fault,” Robin says. “Why did you take so long to find him?”

“Which is more important, Robin? Explaining what happened or getting Nightwing the medical help he needs?” Batman’s voice is calm, but forceful, and Robin immediately backs down, handing the medical case to Batman in a huff and moving to Dick’s side.

Batman binds his ribs on the spot before moving him any further. Dick’s eyes catch the faint glow of Christmas lights against the snow through the Batmobile’s windows. _Gotham is kind of pretty tonight_ , he thinks, before drifting into blissful unconsciousness.

***

When he wakes he’s in the Manor, lying on a bed that is not his own. After a few moments he recognizes it as Bruce’s. Dick’s wounds have been dressed and he’s no longer bone-numbingly cold. He’s actually quite cozy. The fire is going and he’s covered with more blankets than he realized existed in the entire house. Bruce is sitting in a chair at his side with his head in his hands. He looks up when Dick clears his throat.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks, and his eyes are brighter than Dick has seen them in a long time.

“Warm,” Dick says, and is rewarded with a smile.

“I’m glad,” Bruce says. Then his eyes break away, unable to meet Dick’s. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. The leader of the Green Triad had decided to get rid of me and wanted to use you to do it. I wasn’t able to break into their facilities while they were expecting me and had to do some research on their layout and manpower first. It took longer than I expected with Oracle out of town.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, Bruce. You came for me in the end. Like I knew you would. That’s all that matters.”

“That’s not all that matters!” Bruce leans closer to the bed. “I should have been there sooner-” His voice breaks off, but he manages to speak again softly. “You almost _died_ , Dick.”

Dick reaches over and takes Bruce’s hand, thumbs moving over the callused palm. “But I didn’t. I’m here. It’s Christmas and neither of us are dead.” He smiles as Bruce looks up to meet his eyes again. “I think that’s as much as we can ask for.”

“Dick-“ Bruce is meeting his eyes with a strange intensity that makes him feel slightly light-headed when the door flies open and Alfred comes in carrying the breakfast tray. Damian is trailing a few feet behind.

“I’m very pleased to see that you’re still with us, Master Richard,” Alfred says as he sets down a tray with tea and assorted pastries. “And I believe Master Damian has something he’d like to say to you.”

“Merry Christmas, Grayson,” Damian manages to get out. Then he pulls a slightly crushed Christmas cookie from behind his back and hands it to Dick. “Alfred forced me to make these ridiculous cookies. He said it was some sort of Christmas tradition. Oh, and I’m glad you’re not dead.” Damian looks pointedly at Bruce and Dick tries in vain to keep his expression serious.

“Thank you, Damian. I’m especially fond of Christmas traditions that involve food.” Dick takes a bite of the cookie and pretends not to notice Damian’s pleased look. “But what happened wasn’t your father’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes things like that happen on patrol. You know that.”

Damian glares at him. “But Father should have found you faster! He even said as much.”

“He was wrong.” Dick catches and holds Damian’s gaze. “If it had been anyone else looking for me I would have died, Damian. If he hadn’t researched the facility I was being held at then he might have died too. Because of him we’re both still here.” Dick silently wills Bruce to believe that.

“Come along, Master Damian. We need to let Master Richard get some rest. Especially as Tim and the others will be visiting later.”

Damian’s expression turns sour. “Can I make Christmas cookies for the rest of the day? I’ll stay in the kitchen.” Alfred just laughs and ushers him out.

“You don’t have to see them if you’re not up to it, you know,” Bruce says. “I would rather you got some more rest.”

“Rest sounds good,” Dick says. His eyes are already starting to feel heavy. “But I still want to see them. It is Christmas after all. And it wouldn’t be Christmas without family.”

He hears Bruce say, “That’s true,” and thinks he feels a warm hand holding tightly to his own before his eyes finally drift shut.


End file.
